Critical Acclaim
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: McGee allows Tony and Ziva a sneak preview of his latest work, which includes a creative interpretation of the unseen tire slashing from Internal Affairs.


Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS because I can't be trusted not to turn it into a nude beach. And that's the only reason. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Spoilers: Up through _Internal Affairs._ And _Deep Six: The Continuing Adventures of LJ Tibbs. _So be careful if you haven't read that one. Heh.

Summary: McGee foolishly asks for his co-workers' opinions on his latest literary effort, which includes his creative interpretation of how Ziva slashed the FBI agents' tires.

* * *

McGee nervously checked his email for the hundredth time since sitting down at his desk an hour previously. He'd come to work an hour before he normally did, wanting some time to settle in before his colleagues arrived with what he hoped would be high praise for the first chapters he'd written for his third novel. After signing off on the final proofs for _Rock Hollow_, he'd been inspired to crank out not just some pages of free writing, but some solid chapters for the tentatively titled _Call to Arms_. He hadn't shared that tidbit yet, as he wasn't quiet sure he wanted such an obvious pun in the title of a story about an arms dealer – who may have had a passing resemblance to La Grenouille.

He looked up expectantly as the elevator dinged, but was disappointed to see neither Tony nor Ziva emerge. It was still about ten minutes too early – twenty, really – but he could feel the suspense gnawing away at his stomach, like a rat with a piece of ancient cheese still encased in the wax that had… He ripped the piece of paper on which he was writing the simile into shreds. They couldn't all be winners. He did take out another paper and write, _Rat phobia, Agent Tommy_. That could be a good scene.

His head popped up as the elevator again dinged and let out its load of two guys from personnel in ugly suits. He picked a piece of lint off the sleeve of his own well-tailored suit and sighed. As he continued to brush the soft wool-blend Armani with his fingertips, he noticed that his nails were looking a little ragged. Excessive typing always did that. Maybe he could squeeze in a treatment over the weekend if Mimi had a free appointment, assuming his writing didn't consume all his free…

Abruptly yanked out of his musing, he pushed back from the object that had just been slammed on his desk. Ziva didn't acknowledge his anxiety as she demanded, "Do you think you are funny, McGee? Do you?"

"I…I…" He wracked his brain to figure out what she could have found so offensive in the thin manuscript she had possibly dented his desk with. "I…didn't see you come off the elevator."

"I took the stairs." She took a moment to take off her backpack and fling it into her chair across the room. "Do you really think writing pornography is the best choice, considering you know me and my abilities through personal experience?"

"Um…" McGee tried to push his chair back further, but he was already hitting the table behind his desk as it was. What had Officer Lisa even _done_ in the chapters he'd written? Slashed the tires on an FBI vehicle and gone to a crime scene with the rest of the team? "I can't imagine what you mean."

"Perhaps I am using the wrong word. Not pornography, but, er…" She paced the bullpen quickly several times before coming to a stop in front of his desk. "Erotica, yes?"

"Um…no."

"Then what is the word for a genre that deals with arousing themes that is not as explicit as pornography?"

"Well, that may be the word you want, but I wasn't writing anything even slightly erotic." He decided that this would be a good time to steer the conversation into what he really wanted. "Maybe if you explained what you mean, we can discuss it."

"The entire first scene is…" She grabbed the manuscript from his desk and read aloud, "_Moussad Officer Lisa's eyes lit up with pleasure as LJ Tibbs handed her a long, thin object. It seemed to come alive, nearly doubling in size in her hand as she caressed it. She breathed deeply in anticipation and sprinted toward the steps. Tibbs called after her, 'Their tires, not their throats!'_

"_She didn't allow the reproach to dampen her excitement, alternately tightly and loosely gripping the knife she had been given. Rather than slipping out the back door and making her way around the house, she opted for the more exposed route. Dropping to her knees, she opened the front door no more than an inch. When both FBI agents were looking away, she sprang from the doorway and into the shrubbery, a shiver running down her spine when she knew they hadn't seen her. _

"_She lay flat on her belly, her hips making rhythmic up and down movements as she crawled toward the car, using the hedges as cover. She was under the rear bumper in a matter of seconds, feeling almost disappointed as the observing agents didn't even open a window. If only they'd parked on the opposite side of the street and perhaps a few yards further away, she could have prolonged the experience._

"_Her excitement began to build again as she ran her fingertips over the textured rubber of the tire closest to her head, finding the best spot for the knife to slide in – someplace that wouldn't allow the air to escape too quickly. God knew she would hate for it to be spent before she finished the job. She began her work, making a teasing cut through the first tire, followed by an equally shallow thrust into the second. _

"_She knew that she could easily reach the two front tires by sneaking along the side of the car, but her heart began to beat faster as she made the decision to stay underneath it. As she moved herself toward the front tires with the action of her shoulders and hips together, she felt the tension building in her lower abdomen. She could almost feel the car beginning to sink on top of her. She rushed to cut the last two tires, not taking the time to stroke them to find the right spot as she had the first two._

"_The task was complete, but it was not yet over. Her nose brushed the rear bumper as she emerged from under the car, letting her know that things had been close. They were still close. She gave the agents in the car another chance to notice her before slipping back into the hedge and quickly crawling to the shrubbery that bounded the door._

"_She decided that she was safe when she arrived at the point where she had entered the bushes and let out a small squeal of triumph, followed by a bout of laughter and another, more intense squeal. The tension in her body slowly dissipated as she lay panting on in the dirt, staring at the broken blue of the sky through green leaves.'_"

Ziva let the manuscript fall from her hand and land on his desk. "Tell me again, McGee, what your intent in writing that scene was."

McGee swallowed hard and stood. The passage had sounded a lot different coming out of her mouth that it had when he'd been clacking away at his faithful Remington. "Okay, I can see your point. Very valid. I would, however, make the argument that Officer Lisa – as a character, remember – infuses everything she does with some sensuality. She has an international intrigue, James Bond-type of appeal, subtle and…"

"You wrote her orgasming in a hedge because she slashed some tires," Ziva interrupted. "And no one thinks James Bond is subtle."

"I suppose that's one potential reading, but…"

"No. She gets off on vandalism. End of explanation. I find it objectionable." She stared him back into his seat. "I would not be insulted if you simply implied that I am sexy and left it at that."

He forced himself not to use the 'elevator eyes' about which the sexual harassment counselor had lectured them. "You mean Officer Lisa."

"I thought we were past that, McGee."

"I…" He squirmed in his seat, looking for a way out of the situation. He'd felt so good about what he'd written and now… He took the only out available to him. "Let's see what Tony thinks before I commit to changing it."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"What, you don't think Tony will be a good judge of porn or not porn?"

"I am simply saying…" she trailed off as she suddenly grinned with narrowed eyes. "Yes. Why don't we let Tony be the judge?"

As if on cue, Tony emerged from the elevator. Ziva immediately walked over to meet him, still grinning. "Good morning, Tony."

"Uh, morning."

"Did you get a chance to do any reading last night?"

"Yeah."

"Something new from Thom E. Gemcity, perhaps?"

"Yeah."

"And…" she prompted.

"I, uh, liked it?"

Ziva turned to McGee. "He didn't even read it!"

"Of course I read it!" Tony protested. "We're trying to catch an arms dealer we think killed a Marine and the FBI is stepping on our toes. Just one question, McDickens."

"What?"

"Are these middle chapters?"

"Yes. I'm not sure how I want the beginning to sound, but I'll get you those chapters as soon as I've started to get them how I want them. You see…"

"Yeah, yeah. Type, type, type. I'll read 'em when I get 'em. Until I know what happens first, I don't really have an opinion."

"But you liked what you read, yes?"

Tony nodded as Ziva leaned in close. "That's what I said before."

"You really liked it?"

"I thought it was well written." He retreated to his desk to stow his gear with a slightly uncomfortable expression.

McGee glanced at Ziva, who stood in the middle of the bullpen for a moment before going to her desk, looking perturbed. He allowed himself a smug smirk and returned to his own desk. She was obviously just reading too deeply into the text because she either took her interpretation as Officer Lisa a little too seriously or she had some deep-seated issues. Maybe violence did secretly turn her on and now she was embarrassed because he had figured it out. Not that he'd intended that when he'd written the passage. He chanced a look in her direction, but she was focused on her computer, with an occasional glance in Tony's direction.

The rest of the morning passed quietly, until Tony walked over to Ziva's desk and said in a voice McGee could barely overhear, "Ziva?"

"Yes, Tony?"

He reached into his pocket and took out an object, which he carefully placed in front of her on her desk. "Will you slash my tires?"


End file.
